


Electricity in the souls

by Straj



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:20:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straj/pseuds/Straj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the Chimera named Sasha<br/>co-author</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

The sky, the sky.  
Calm blue sky with endless white cloud fields, stretching for miles around.  
Fresh air, not polluted with blue-gray smoke of diesel cruisers, floating majestically above the clouds of vapor or air dreadnoughts, flying under the clouds.  
The sky.  
A long-standing dream of humanity.  
Yes, in our time, many are moving in the air castles in every sense of the word, but this is extremely expensive and not very reliable.  
And so I want to just jump into a cloud sea, to swim, to lie down on it...  
Relax.

But have not thought about the pilot of the second class of the French air force Viktor Parsch. He thought about the other. About that there in the parlor sits the important officials who need to get from point А to point B, and if they will deliver on time and safely, it will increase the pilots who he actually was, until the first pilot than it is currently doing.  
He was proud of. He entrusted the diesel aircraft alpha — 458 and passenger. Victor knew it was a VERY important officer, but where he is, Victor said, for security reasons

Of the sky thought the official. He sat near the window and watched the clouds. His name was Arman Evans and he has worked in MDP (Ministry of dissatisfied persons). In fact, the Ministry was named differently, and it was a common social title.  
Arman was tall, blond with brown eyes, a nervous expression on his face and thin lips; dressed in black breeches, a black jacket from devil's skin; warm reindeer-fur coat and hat lying nearby on a nearby chair.  
Armand was like a Cheetah who's ready to jump. And now he sat, half relaxed, and half assembled.

He was flying from Moscow, the capital of Rousseau, were returning after the inspection of new diesel generator that UA (Union of the Americas) gave Rousseau.  
The inspection went well. Russian colleagues warmly welcomed him, gave to drink honey and fed dumplings, gave the beaver coat and deerskin hat. And now he was returning home... To an empty house, where no one waited. His wife left him, not in forces longer tolerate domestic violence.

— "Well good riddance", - he thought suddenly, - "as soon as you arrive, you will drop all this tiresome attire, change into more useful and functional... and go... Where would I go?" - Armand licked his suddenly dry lips, — "from Russian side was just one great instance... But alas, bummer..."

***

 

On Nicholas street, in the city of London, was a night club "Blue velvet". In this moment it was closed, but life flickered in it. On the second floor, on the couch of blue silk sat a gorgeous young lady in a dark blue moire gown with your hair down. The dress gently encircled the slender figure, and the skirt hid the legs. Across from her solid oak sat a cheeky young man in a white shirt with cuffs that open to pale lean chest, which was hanging on a thick gold chain massive crucified black breeches and frivolous kind of coat the color of dirty water, decorated with flower pale Golden roses.

— Anthony, - languidly drawled a young woman, - well, how can...  
\- Claire! - abruptly screamed Anthony, - you don't understand! I can't see how other men look at you!  
\- But I can't help but sing — reasonably objected Claire, - I — star "Blue velvet"! I already dress up in high-necked dresses, skirt wearing to the floor, a neckline is closed... It's a real torture! Whether you like it, Antony Mutch not want to, but today I will go with either an open back or slit on the skirt!  
— I do not allow!!! - yelled Anthony.  
— Yes? - Claire stood up, patting the skirt, - so I, Claire Rose, tell you. Today OUR club will reign rock and roll! And his jealousy can shove up your ass or the ass of his sponsor!!! - and she slammed the door.  
— What a passionate woman, - whispered Anthony, took a Havana cigar and lit it, leaning back on a brown leather chair.

***

Alice Nijwood sat in her room in the first underground floor of London. She came home from work and laid on dry places his personal corridor, eight by four meters — all rubbish that flew in from above.  
The majority of it was useless rubbish, but there were also quite a decent mini-bots, important documents, crystal discs...  
Alice looked at the pair of nodes from diesel robot. They are found in the third ventilation hatch.  
— Will have to find everything and collect it, -she said, - but we need to clean up and go upstairs. To walk and eat.

After washing, Alice chose the heavy brocade dress silver black below the knees, put on a warm vest of angkor. shod black boots and went upstairs. There it was waited by a lovely young man — Timothy Batch.  
— Good day, Tim! — Hello Alice.  
— Good afternoon, Alice! - smiled Tim, a tall young man with wheat wavy hair, light gray eyes. He was dressed in a white shirt with a black tie, leather vest, grey jacket, black pants and black hat, which was wearing large hexagonal spectacles, and the pants were pulled half into high black boots with clasps.  
— Invite you to the theatre, - Tim held out a hand to Alice, - and then we'll go for dinner at the restaurant "Bitter Ditter".  
— Great! - fun smiled at Alice and picked up Tim by the elbow, pulled him along the street.  
— Such a beautiful woman must not walk, - grinned Timothy, - I beg.  
Near the edge of the pavement stood a delicate car in the silver and gold stripes.  
\- Sit down, Alice, - Tim noble seated his lady, sat behind the wheel of the car, car groaning, rushed forward.

***

 

In Los Angeles was warm and dry; a few clouds raced along the blue sky with the speed of Olympic runners, never stopping and not stopping. The asphalt melted under my feet, palm trees sagged sadly, people were sitting either on the beach or around the pools.  
There were however the same people who instead sit in the cool and drink soft drinks, was engaged in the work. Moreover, the work tedious, but correct.  
It was city services — police, firefighters, doctors and rescue service.

Mick Melloun actually has, detective first class Police Department in the southern District of Los Angeles, was sitting at his Desk and blankly flipping through a huge folder with an unusual case — "the Inexplicable disappearance of people".  
It all started poorly and boring, because people always lost, but later received ransom demands, or they are dead or alive. But then...  
Here nobody was, and nobody had a hint about the ransom.  
That was very strange.  
And when it came to Mick`s, the city has already gone about twenty people of different ages, professions, races...  
Mick went to work. It was all very simple to use. Good these cold cases... But Mick was not discouraged, for he is considered an expert on such cold cases.  
— "So," - Mick scratched his head and so sticking out in all directions hair, - "we have only one film camera, three disgusting images and four certificates. What do I do in this case?"  
Mick once again read the reports, evidence and testimony, sighed and skimmed the video and saw what all this time escaped his eyes. A suspicious vehicle had New York plates.  
— "I see," - thought Mick, — "so, the first thing that I needed on the East coast. And then let's see what will happen next and how the cards will fall."

***

 

Mira Slivenko was sitting in his house in the suburbs of London. She never regretted that left an abusive husband. She smiled at her reflection in the huge mirror.  
Beautiful young woman with long brown hair below shoulders, eyes the color of snowdrops shone with a joyful smile.  
She now was all good. She finished courses of the operator of a diesel cruiser and could feed themselves.  
Mira stood up, straightened on his cotton nightgown braided plait and went to bed because she worked the night shift. The light automatically extinguished; and the house was plunged into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The Slums Of Los Angeles. The place where any decent citizen even at gunpoint nose will not stick.  
— Ugh... my Head hurts, — panted behind a wooden counter overweight subject in a filthy orange jumpsuit, wiping the sweat hail the wheeled with the red face — So, while no one else is...  
— Where are we going, — interrupted his thoughts aloud in a husky, girlish voice. The fat man nervously shuddered: - "Oh, shit, I brought it hard, as always, at the wrong time".  
— Uh, Rita, hi, — with great difficulty let loose he forced politeness, -" Thought about wouldn't come".  
— As you see, Chuck was! - snapped the brown-eyed girl of fifteen with long brown hair, in jeans, to the knees, dirty sneakers and dirty white shirt untucked. Vidocq she was, to put it mildly, painful, pale, thin as a pole and his eyes sunken. Like recently had a flu or something similar.  
— Hmm, not wait three minutes, eh? I used the toilet...  
\- And I am not eating! - was the reply, - here — the girl threw on the counter with peeling paint a couple of pieces of metal, resembling computer circuits, — Take your bitch. Drive me to food.  
— Well-at Rita — Chuck, hoping for leniency, — Well, I really cornered, well, if I am right now, right here...  
— I at least be a good laugh! — without a drop of embarrassment, said Rita, leaning against the counter, - easy for You to say, look, mug some drunk together with ass!  
Groaning, Chuck frantically chattered away on the lowest shelf, so this "lovely creature" dumped here while the going's good with his money, damn them.

***

 

Arman was sitting in the bed of a London theater, and a lazy carelessness looked at the audience in binoculars. He came to the beginning of the second act of the acclaimed Opera known theater Director Timothy Burton's "Batman."  
On stage, tightly knit man with a black robe and mask and sang, standing on the edge of a skyscraper:

I'm Batman!  
And what?!  
My life  
Your not like!  
Righteous vengeance I chose the path that  
And I have no right to curtail it!

Arman translated binoculars from one row to another; after landing, he went home, took a bath and dressed in his favorite black suit, went to the theatre.  
The first series and the Lodge was occupied by a pale young man with burning eyes and their exalted ladies in the gas dresses in different colors and shades, bright lipstick and long mouthpieces in the thin graceful fingers. Usually at the ends of these mouthpieces smoked thin cigarettes with marijuana or poppy straw.  
They loudly discussed all around; ladies and began to laugh shrilly.  
Arman knew this audience, and ideological belief, however superficial, this exalted audience could be customers of his Ministry, but however, the daughter and son of wealthy parents, though called for revolution, but when it came to a fight, they immediately hid under the wings of parents.  
They didn't care where to live and spend money. Their Hobbies were quite diverse, but for long. Young men spend money on pretty women, fast cars and motorcycles. Girl — on outfits and cosmetics.  
Armand didn't like them. They were fussy sparrows in this life. From them was not good, and the noise they raised thorough.

Armand snorted contemptuously and turned the binoculars to the gallery. There were people of simpler, poorer and less educated. They could also be customers of his Ministry, but the trouble is... As a rule, the proletariat, though dissatisfied with the bonfire power over a mug of cheap ale in the bar before the open of sabotage they did not reach. Well, revenge will otkovyryat a couple of rivets on a steam engine or put in a diesel generator bent nails — that's the whole sabotage. But on questioning revealed that he was guided by a simple jealousy, or fumes, or blunt dissatisfaction with his boss.

Arman turned the binoculars on the scene, singing Duo Catwoman and Batman:

Cat

 

Got nine lives I  
And cats all my relatives!  
Yes, the thief of the night I  
The darkness hides me.  
Murrr!

 

Batman

 

Come with me  
To eradicate evil!  
Only souls of night  
It is easy to understand!  
We are in the darkness will be dissolved,  
In the night!  
Tracks our you do not look!

And the majors and the proletariat well-suited only for one good scream in the election and beat muzzle those who will point to.  
Arman Evans furtively yawned. With the first series he didn't want to be contacted, gallery not filed, and he wanted to find a boyfriend for the night. So he kept his eyes fixed on the middle ranks, who occupied white-collar workers, yuppies, professionals in General, those who by definition was a big pain in the ass. Doubtless customers of the Ministry are experts on the sabotage and sabotage, the main drag.  
Yes, that was the one that sent the proletariat to sabotage, assessing options and making a really fucking convoluted plans.  
The proletariat gave them, but to catch them, the apparent simplicity, was not so simple. Among them was a unique skill, which no one ever refused. They tore it with his hands, and any suspicion thrown on them, caused a storm of indignation among the Directors of factories and of NIIT.  
Therefore, such masters of their craft was a unique approach, and the Department in which Arman was working, just doing these approaches.  
Arman remembered how ten years ago, when we created the international kiber set of the road, some chump introduced the virus into the system "Hydra", and then four months the entire planet was in power mad computers.  
Easier all escaped with those who had cars on the go steam or diesel, and those who walked safely through that period without noticing anything.

Arman looked to the stage. There were beginning the final battle between Batman and the Joker.

Batman

 

Your laugh sounds like a mockery!

 

Joker

 

You contempt retaining,  
Laugh I always!  
But Gotham fall matter!  
I should press a button —  
And the townspeople curse  
The moment you are...

 

Batman

 

I'll plunge into the abyss  
Silence and darkness!

 

Joker

 

I mad  
He is very reckless,  
But not you!

Armand turned away from the scene because he saw, in a motley crowd of intellectuals, a slender, gray-eyed guy. The guy was not one, but Arman was not discouraged. He eagerly looked at the slender body beneath the well-cut clothes, cheeky smile, mischievous grey eyes Shine.  
Armand licked his lips. He's completely lost interest in Opera, concentrating your eyes on this slim, beautiful and daring guy.  
He definitely fit the type that Arman loved. Now it was necessary to come up with a plan to get that kid in their hands.


	3. Chapter 3

The Union of the Americas, consisted only of the American continent, with its capital in Mexico city. There was the capital of the entire Union, there lived and worked a President and a bicameral Parliament.  
In the Parliament from all the Northern, Southern and Central States were selected two representatives, one remained in the lower house, the second voting countries and one representative from the Northern, Southern and Central States met in the upper house.  
Representatives of senators of each of the territorial units once a year was chosen President.  
The post has already been anarchists, monarchists, Republicans, and Democrats, fascists and Communists, but also socialists, and ultra-sorts. Now there sat a Democrat. John "Sacred Buffalo" Johntzone of the Cherokee nation.

The Pentagon was not in sight, the CIA has been absent as a unit.  
Fort Knox existed, but it was guarded by an elite squad of "Black hatchet". It was a strong and proud fighters of the Sioux.  
Alaska was recognized as an independent in 1925, Canada in 1900.  
Northern States, including all from the border of Canada to the border of Mexico, is the largest territorial unit. They, being an attractive destination for smart and savvy people from Europe have already mastered Cybernetics and others like them, and quite successfully competed with the Empire of Nippon and China.  
Most of the residents of the Northern States were the Indians, then white, and then with a — Chinese. The black population was not observed.  
Washington was a complete hole.  
Los Angeles, Chicago, Detroit, new York, Dallas, Miami and a dozen cities scattered across the Northern States — was the largest centres, which were concentrated all the alien population of the school. Local was mainly rural farmland.  
In Los Angeles, ironically, was filming a movie, and turnover of the population here exceeded all conceivable borders. There were, of course, people who are near the centres of industry the city was founded, and this city is first absorbed all the novelties from around the world.

In Europe, it was quiet. All countries have prospered individually, with its own rulers, currency, and their own dissatisfied. Europe was dominated by diesel and steam. Somewhere dominated by diesel, and is still warping machine steam on the go.  
But Europe was not far behind from its neighbor — the Union of the Americas. She also wanted to be cool and quietly introduced the cyber program.

Africa has lagged behind. Those who wanted to learn, went to Europe, and who was going to live, putting on only a spear and lived.

The Australian Union was not a single white. Maori lived, the Maori live and will live on.

Rousseau took the terrain is very big. The Western boundary passed through the lands of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, Poland and Turkey, Eastern ended in the Urals, but in Siberia belonged to the local population, Evenki, Yakut, Chukchi.  
Rousseau rules and not the king, not the President. There was a very complicated three-chamber Parliament, which confused even the truce. In the Parliament of Rousseau a majority of seats was occupied by the monarchists, and the rest was distributed among the Bolsheviks, socialists, anarchists, Nazis and Communists.  
Rousseau stood at the level of development of the industry somewhere on the level of Turkey and Eastern Europe. Every new technological progress was developed thoroughly in the Parliament, but for the most part it disappeared in the bureaucratic machine.  
Therefore, almost all new items introduced with a delay of several years.

From all countries were in the lead only two — the Empire of Nippon and the celestial Empire.  
The first successfully developed all the clever ideas that came to mind to the locals or in the heads of people from other countries, and the second successfully stealing these ideas-in ready condition.  
At the head of the Empire of Nippon stood the Imperial couple; plus were the Cabinet Ministers who were appointed personally by the Emperor.  
In China all power was held by the Great helmsman, he's the Emperor, he is the head of the chief of the Ministry.

The world was all good. Any apprehensions were not in the air. And it was nice.

***

 

Mick flew to the car Assembly of the Empire of Nippon, heading to New York. Of course, he could use the monorail or to buy a ticket on diesel paragliders with the software, but Mick chose your car. First, he got used to it, and secondly, such a quick and compact car no one was. And Mick got him for a cool idea that could tire anyone should at a good price.

Leaving behind a Great plain with countless herds of Buffalo, and a scattering of herbs, Mick quickly crossed the remaining miles in the late evening and happened to be in New York.  
There he found a cool cheap place to crash, and drove the car on a guarded Parking lot, went to sleep in cheap but comfortable room at an inexpensive hotel.

***

 

Rita Scarheart with pleasure and thrust his hungry teeth in a half-stale loaf of bread, trying to prolong the pleasure. Chuck, an infection, paid so much that this piece just enough. See briskly so to pee in a hurry. Well, nothing, nothing, tomorrow we give him a power pack will without the need of reckoning will not go away.  
Eyes suddenly tingled. Every day Rita was digging in the local landfill where he dumped basically broken computing equipment. The delivery thereof to the local points of reception the girl just earning a living. With the work in these places was very tight, and she had a very good reason, where it is not desirable to work in groups.  
Suppressing a sigh, Rita hurried to eat up his loaf. After so skudnenko lunch she once again had to swing by the dump, in order to drive away the heavy thoughts, again sweeping at the wrong time.


	4. Chapter 4

In "Blue velvet" was crowded.  
Guests of the night club they drank wine, devoured snacks and with impatience waiting for the speech of the incomparable Claire Rose.

Arman came out of the theater in the bustle of the human maelstrom, lost traces of the gray-eyed guy and in order to be comforted, he sent his foot in "Blue velvet". He was a frequent guest there and had some privileges in comparison with others. First, it was expressed that it was always waiting for a separate table in a cozy alcove, and second, it served the best.  
And now, snow-white cloth was laid on the table, stands plates, a bottle of French cognac, caviar, butter, toast...  
Armand leaned back in his wooden chair, from canadian maple with twisted legs, covered in blue plush and lit a cigarette strong tobacco.

Under the rhythmic meowing the saxophone on stage came out divine Claire. Her hair was raised up and twisted the heavy intricate knot in her silver-gray gown with two side slits, opening a wonderful view of the slender legs in fishnet stockings . Divine Claire approached the microphone, opened his mouth... and the enchanting sounds fell from her mouth. Slightly hoarse, weary voice came down from the stage, enveloping the audience and promising them unprecedented enjoyment.

From Russa with love  
Sent you a letter.  
Wished you health...  
But I don't care anymore.

Far Russia  
And you're far away.  
Left me cute  
And went East.

You found another,  
About me you forgot.  
For thee I yearn,  
Peace to me is not nice.

Far Russia  
And you're far away.  
Left me cute  
And went East.

White snow all over  
Sleep the way to you;  
And all my soul is sad,  
Reflecting in my tear.

Far Russia  
And you're far away.  
Left me cute  
And went East.

Arman drank, ate and stared at the visitors in a cavalier person. In the middle of the first song in the hall became cheeky, slightly arrogant, young man in a white shirt, unbuttoned almost to the waist, beige trousers, worn in the jacket with rubbed elbows. He plopped down in the nearest table and snapped his fingers. Flew the waiter. The visitor told him and the waiter vanished, appearing later with a bottle of Scottish beer.

Arman curiously looked at the citizen.  
— Tell me, dear, - he asked the waiter appears with a trolley on which stood a closed dish in which something was, - who is? The guy in the beige trousers?  
— Oh, Waldemar Fish! - the waiter said, starting to shift on the plate Arman huge steak with a delicious crust and such a tantalizing scent that Armand was again hungry.  
\- What does he do? - Armand threw a concerned look at the slender dark-haired man who drank beer, burped and released a loud rude jokes.  
— He... a pimp — in a low voice, explained the waiter, - according to official data it is the designer and keeps the Studio models, but...  
\- I wonder, - Armand nodded, released the waiter and began to eat.

Claire Rose took a breath, drank a glass of wine with herbs, dressed in a satin blue dress with open back and reappeared on stage.

You only live twice,  
Only morning and afternoon  
And night die  
Under my fire.

I know you can stick  
Love her like a knife.  
To death wish  
When will you take me!

I got a view to a kill  
And you can't just walk away.  
And your death will beat pure.  
Down the aisle with me!

I know you can stick  
Love her like a knife.  
To death wish  
When will you take me!

— Invite Woldemar here, - announced Armand following his request to the waiter, who was clearing away plates.  
— As you say, - the waiter quickly cleared away the dishes, put on a cart and rolled to the kitchen.  
But then the Story hooked tipchik in a brown coat and very long scarf is poisonous-green colour. Type confiscated beer and made something to convince Woldemar. To the table the waiter came and stood over Mr. Fish and said something to him.

Waldemar fish and an unknown man approached the table to Armand.  
— What do you want from me? — boldly asked Waldemar, flopping into a chair.  
— You, — smiled coldly Armand, - you say, contain a modeling school and moonlighting as a pimp?  
— It's all baloney, - grinned Waldemar, from the table air a cake and sending it in your mouth, - I'm a poor designer, who works for the benefit of society!  
— Well, — Arman gave experienced eye his, - clothes made at Huntsman on Savile row.  
— The prestige above all else, — inaudible hum of Fish.  
— I told him — shrill was type coat, — it-yourself wear!

Arman stared at him. Nothing remarkable. Blue eyes, long shoulder length hair, thin, short.  
\- Who are you?  
— Greg Strukoff, - said the young fellow; he was really very young, a little younger than Woldemar, — I am his sponsor.  
\- How nice, - purred Arman, — help yourselves, guys.  
— I don't like it, - muttered Greg.  
— I want to be your sponsor, you guys, - smiled Armand, silently wondering who he would take first, - finish eating, relax. Now let's listen to the last song of the incomparable Claire, and I'll tell you what I want from you.

World is not enough  
To understand how much I love you.  
But my love you got...  
And you left my life!

No!  
No!  
No!

Tomorrow never dies,  
I you out said.  
But it happened to me this trouble.  
Your love is the way me forgot.

No!  
No!  
No!

Golden eye narrows his black cat,  
In the darkness of the room contentedly purring.  
Tomorrow never dies.  
My dear, do you hear?

No!  
No!  
No!


	5. Chapter 5

Arman was reclining on the couch in his house, sipping wine with a smile, watched Voldemar and Greg.  
He was right. Emotional environment, alcohol and cigarettes with weed contributed to the complete relaxation of guests.  
\- I still don't understand, - chuckled Greg, staring blue eyes on the master, — what do you want from us?  
— I'm in the basement pile of clothes, - he said, barely smiling, - show me a fashion show.  
— Yes, easily, — arrogantly cried Waldemar, - I'll show you that you ohreneete Come On, Greg.  
They went to the basement, and Arman, put a half-full glass, prepared the living room for the performance.

And here they came. Them to watch without laughing impossible. Ex Armand differed curvaceous and slim waist, and these...  
Thin, small.  
They had several times to tie each other's ribbons, nadergat from hats to lush dresses has not subsided, but even with such a comical appearance, Arman felt a burning desire to possess them.  
Which he did.  
Despite short-lived resistance, Arman grabbed them and carried into the bedroom.

***

 

And at the other end of the world, detective first class Mick Melloun actually has woke up, had Breakfast and went to work. First, he visited the Police Department of the city of new York, where he was given full information about a particular car...  
It turned out that the machine is not of American origin, and European. Northern States in matters of automotive imitated the Empire of Nippon. It was the fact that for the majority of people produced compact cars hoppers and mini-flyers of famous brands — Ford, Dodge, Chevrolet, Tesla, Hummer, mercury, Pontiac, Studebaker, Packard, Jeep.  
But the Jeeps and humvees produced in the wheel-diesel, just for those places where flying was simply impossible.  
Mick was a joint car. "Suzuki" on the basis of "Ford Mustang" — compact car flyer, able to turn through a cyber transformation in a conventional SUV, and the flying module.

And the car that he was following, belonged to the English company. About her much talked — their mark she's in the police report left. All described her as a hulking monster that changes color.  
— This hulking monster is always waiting for their victims in the dark corners, — enthusiastically said the archivist for the police Department, - and the victim gape her drawn into a dark gut and kidnaps.  
\- I see, - Mick sighed. He did not relish the prospect of trudging backward in Europe for the elusive vehicle, but did not remain. In the police Department of new York city was only evidence, but no provable evidence.  
No one's seen firsthand how dragged the victim, no one could remember the color of the car, the four swore on the windshield was a strange label, but nobody could remember what it depicts.  
— Well, okay, but abductions have you had? - hopelessly sighed Mick.  
— What — the archivist pulled out a thick eight packs, here.  
— What is it? - said Mick.  
\- Lists of disappeared over the last three years of people, — willingly explained the archivist, — about two hundred of them disappeared inexplicably and without a trace.  
\- So, - Mick thought and started to fold mind, — you have a hundred, we have about twenty, in other States — about forty.  
— Possible squad to new, - authoritative said the archivist.  
— The army can create, - grinned Mick, — nothing can be done, have to go to the United Kingdom for answers.

***

 

Alice Nijwood worked as a specialist cleaner underground ventilation shafts, and her boyfriend Timothy Batch operator diesel-pump station external treatment facilities.  
The evening ended with a passionate kiss, and now Alice tried to forget the sweet sleep, but she did not give rest to some of the things that her team picked out of the ventilation shafts for some time.  
Yeah and Tim said that for the last three months they fished from the sewer half a dozen mutilated corpses.  
Apparently in London there was a maniac.  
Having reached this conclusion, Alice quietly asleep.

***

 

In a gloomy house in the outskirts of London for a late dinner was going two. Two sisters-Goths. They were incredibly rich, incredibly beautiful and terribly unhappy.  
Black table draped with a black cloth with a narrow strip of white lace around the edge, silver ware, steam robots are servants in black...

— Ness, — asked the older one to the younger — a thin, small and graceful girl, dressed in a black knee-length dress, decorated with intricate and exquisite embroidery, - you are again braided her hair who knows what.  
— Dark, they're in the way, - she replied, drawing his clear brown eyes on his sister, — then I will dismiss them when the visits go.  
— Well, Ness, — Dark plunged a fork into the pink flesh boiled salmon, — only today I'm going to a meeting of the Dark League and you stay home.  
\- As you say, Dark, - agreed Ness.  
Dark was large, but fragile girl with a MOP of black shiny hair, flowing over her shoulders. Now she was wearing a black guipure dress casual with sleeves "bat" opening white turning the shoulders. She was an adept of the Dark League, but the community mainly consisted of rich majors who were attracted by the outer side of the dark. They are not fed a special effort and interest in the study of dark forces, is not called Satan, and their deity was Lindsell — mechanical God with a diesel engine and a steam piston.  
It wasn't anybody good, but they respected him and carried around like honey tub.

After dinner, went to Dark Gothic diesel Bentley to the meeting, and Ness was left alone.  
— Who am I? — she exclaimed, wandering through the dark corridors of the gloomy house of black.  
— Why I was born? — asked Ness at the portraits of ancestors.  
— What can I do in this life? — inquired at the dark sky, sitting on a bench in the greenhouse.  
— I want to understand my purpose, - finally she decided, - Yes, it would break my sister's heart, but I am a person, - so Ness put on the dapper black, though worn, men's suit, ruthlessly cut through dark hair, pulled on the cap and away from the piggy Bank cash, went in search of adventure.

***

 

\- Dr. Karrson, how goes our business? - asked a disembodied voice from the loudspeaker — how are our charges?  
— With them Dr. Tongol, - said Dr. Karrson, a large man with black hair, a strong face and classical features, clad in a white Bathrobe, - she holds infusion serum strength.  
\- Okay. Try this time without the dead.  
— How to get it, - muttered Dr. Karrson, - you do not give us the opportunity to carry out field trials?  
— This opportunity you will receive as soon as your Guinea pig can live long enough...  
\- Dr. Karrson, — was heard from the door. He turned around, the door stood a slender girl in a Bathrobe with dark brown hair, braided in two pigtails, - doctor, we have a problem!  
— What happened? — retorted Karrson.  
— Three experimental anaphylactic shock, in urgent need of rescue.  
— Go, Dr. Tongol — ordered Karrson and began to keep ringing in the surgical Department with a request to send the doctor Wedre and Eger.

An hour later.  
— I suggest to pull the corpses in the sewers, — the doctor Wedre, a tall young man in a thin pince-nez, and with grayish hair styled in a ponytail.  
\- I agree, — said skeletal girl with long flowing hair. Her robe was icon fairies.  
\- I support Dr. Wedre and Eger, - smiled Dr. Tongol.  
— Well, — Karrson, opened the hatch and, with the help of colleagues, put the bodies in the sewers.


	6. Chapter 6

Mick arrived in London early in the morning.  
Before he could cross the threshold of Scotland Yard, as knocked the tall dark young man in a black coat unbuttoned, from under which was visible a black jacket, light gray shirt, black pants and black shoes, jumped out the door  
\- For God's sake, excuse me, - the man said in a pleasant baritone, helping Mick`s, - to get you okay?  
\- No, - smiled Mick, - just it happened quite unexpectedly.  
— You are from the Northern States, - said the man, - work for the police. What brings you here?  
— Questions, — Mick grinned. He felt sympathy for this man, — my name is Mick Melloun actually has. I'm detective first class of the Police Department of Los Angeles.  
— Sherlock Holmes, - said the young man, — the inspector on especially important issues of Scotland Yard. I think it will be good if you will go with me.  
— Can you, — said Mick, — and it would be best if you will call me by name.  
\- I agree, - smiled Holmes, - you can call me or Sherlock or Scherl. You, the people of the Northern States, love to shorten names.

— Where are you going, Scherl? — asked Mick, caught in a police car.  
— We have three dead bodies in the sewers, - he replied, - your clothing is quite appropriate to the sewer to climb. Black jeans, high boots that are pretty worn. Black jacket and black shirt. Why this craving for black?  
\- Just like that, — said Mick, staring at the surrounding landscape.  
— Where are you staying?  
\- Yet, nowhere.  
— Come to me, - Sherlock squinted gray eyes, - in Baker street, 221 b. Bad habits to you, I see a stranger.  
\- Okay, - Mick`s, in fact, did not care where to live.

Machine, a sort of historical monstrosity of a diesel type, stopped near sewage treatment plants. Meet the police came a tall guy with Golden hair and gray eyes, dressed in dirty overalls and waders.  
\- My name is Timothy Batch, - he said, - I'm the operator of the pumping station. Unfortunately, the main engineer of change is missing.  
\- Inspector Holmes, - said Sherlock, - and this is my colleague from the Northern States detective Melloun actually has. Where are the bodies?  
— I lie, — replied laconically Batch, - I'll lead the way.

Three bodies, carelessly covered with a tarp, lay in a transitional bridge between the fourth and fifth drains.  
Mick crouched down and, pulling the wet tarp, looked at the dead.  
— What is it? - Sherlock questioningly stared at his colleague.  
— They are mutilated, — replied Mick, - face smashed to a pulp. The bones of the skull, teeth shattered. Ponabitsya hell of a lot of time to establish their identity. Where they caught? - he asked, rising to his feet.  
— From the fourth drain, - said Batch, - one of them is stuck in the pump number six. I was called to fix the problem, and then found out that there is this, - the operator nodded to the body.  
— Hmm. - Mick looked around, — and fourth flow coming from the water?  
\- From Hammersmith.  
—? — Mick looked at Sherlock.  
— London, — said he.  
— It is clear. Walk through the sewers? — invited Mick.  
— Well, — after some doubt, breathed Sherlock.

Drainage has never been an ideal place for walks. This time, too.  
— How is there bad smell, - murmured Sherlock.  
\- Right, - tersely agreed with him Mick.  
— What are we looking for exactly? — hissed Sherlock; stomach twisting and turning and he couldn't stop retching.  
— Evidence, — said Mick, — your sewer smells worse than ours.  
\- Why? - through clenched teeth he asked Sherlock.  
— Technology of the Empire of Nippon, - Mick held his nose, — all waste water is recycled seventeen filters before they reach treatment plants, — then his attention was drawn to a dark pile near the opposite wall of the sewer channel. Mick shone his flashlight. From her with a squeal fled rats.  
— Hmm — Mick poked dipstick, the bottom of brown slime, jumped in and moved to the opposite side. The stream came up to his thighs in the disgusting boots squelched water.  
— What is it? - said Sherlock, when Mick came out on the opposite side.  
— Now look, - he replied, raking probe pile, - wow!  
\- What? — equally constraining emotions and retching, asked the inspector.  
— Three corpse, gnawed to the bone, — said Mick, — it seems that here it is necessary to conduct a full-scale search.  
\- Okay, - the inspector turned away, and vomited.  
— How are you? — anxiously asked Mick, — hold on. I come to you.  
— All right, just stay away from me until you change, - exclaimed the inspector.  
\- Okay, - Mick shrugged.

After a couple of hours Mick was sitting in his room in Baker street and were deciding where to go. While the sewers were searching for, Sherlock took his newly acquired colleague to his home and left him there with the admonition to wash and change clothes. Then drove his car, which Mick left about the building of Scotland Yard.  
Having washed and dressed, Mick decided to join the search, but came to the constable and said it was a bad idea.  
\- And why not? — Mick frowned.  
— While you are not in our state, you had better not interfere.  
\- I see, - Mick nodded, - and bureaucratic delays.

So Mick decided to take a walk to see the city settle. Said — done, Mick took some money and went for a walk.

***

 

— Waldemar! - moaned Greg.  
\- What? - Waldemar said.  
\- Where are we?  
\- I don't know, - if Fish got up on his hands and looked around. There was a day, meowing cats, buzzing cars, and they were lying in a pile of trash in some alley. Mercilessly had a headache, my mouth tasted of rotten eggs.  
— What was yesterday? — naughty tongue said Waldemar.  
— I don't remember, - muttered Greg. He rose to his feet. Everything swam before my eyes. Greg coughed, and vomited.  
— Blue-e, — Woldemar twisted, — watch where you vomit.  
\- Ugh, gross, - Greg backed away from the puddle of his own vomit, - I don't remember anything. NOTHING, - he repeated in despair.  
\- I don't, - remember Waldemar picked up a buddy, so he didn't fall, — went home. Maybe a good night's sleep will refresh us... and we remember...

***

 

Arman lay on the bed and partook of morning coffee. The night was great. He had no idea what had become of his night toys as saturate your hunger and quenching his lust, he called his assistant, and he saved him from those pesky creatures.  
But it was fun for a night, and Arman`s wanted more. He wanted to have someone who would meet him in the evening, were ravenous at night and off in the morning, hot kiss.  
But while his dreams could not be realized.


	7. Chapter 7

Mick opened one eye and began to study the environment. The ceiling is so beautiful, white and vaguely familiar.  
Mick opened the other eye, raised his hand and found himself on the head with an ice pack.  
— Stay, - in sight seemed flustered Sherlock.  
— What's wrong with me? — hissed Mick.  
— I thought you might tell me, - asked Sherlock.  
— What do I have to tell you, - Mick tried to get up, but eyes danced red dots, - is me on the head embedded?  
— Looks like it, - sighed Sherlock, - you citizens have found, called the police, who in turn called me. They saw you next to me working. I rushed to the hospital and took you out of there. The doctors said that you had no concussion.  
\- Is okay, — Mick whispered, — I just can't remember... don't remember, - Mick put both arms along the body and stared at the ceiling.  
— No, — Sherlock smiled gently, - I have good news.  
— What?  
\- Finally you are allowed to work with us. Your identity is confirmed.  
\- Okay, - Mick closed his eyes and fell into darkness.

It is the third day lived with Sherlock, and it has not allowed to investigate. A large Sewerage brought the police a headache in the form of another sixteen mutilated skeletons, but Mick`s, these skeletons are not admitted, though the idea belonged to him.  
Mick two days walking around the city, studying the natives, but on the third day early in the morning he got up and went, and what happened then... Mick didn't remember.

***

 

Ness for two days lived on the wing of the incomparable Claire Rose. Slender, petite, she looked like a boy in a black cartucce.  
Ness received an excellent education, so they could play the harpsichord and the piano. And in the evenings, when the bulk of the visitors were gone, Claire sang sweet ballads and Ness accompanied her on the piano.  
Here on the third evening, the main party people and alcoholics out of the picture, Claire is dressed in a shiny sapphire dress from the pattern, and dressed Ness in black tuxedo, seated in the hall at the piano, and she leaned against the cap, sang a husky alluring voice:

Show some quantum of solace  
To my soul and my heart;  
I want you beckoned  
Me gold finger.

And then I'll tell you:  
Let the heavens fall,  
Let the sparks from his eyes,  
But I will love you!

You got a license to kill,  
So kill me quickly.  
The man with the Golden gun  
I want you tonight.

And then I'll tell you:  
Let the heavens fall,  
Let the sparks from his eyes,  
But I will love you!

You are in the service,  
In the service of Her Majesty.  
But tonight you will be mine.  
My spy who seduced me.

And then I'll tell you:  
Let the heavens fall,  
Let the sparks from his eyes,  
But I will love you!

In the hall were Arman and greedy eyes staring at the pianist; he could not conceive that she was a girl.  
\- My God, - he muttered, licking his dry lips, - and how good he is this boy. Languid pallor, set off by a black tuxedo. Dark hair, light hair, Slender, nice guy. Want, want, want... will Catch you after the show, will drive me and cuddle.

***

 

Mick came around late in the evening, and sat down on the couch and looked around. My head was buzzing, but tolerable.  
Sherlock was asleep in a chair, dangling his left arm. He has not changed. Reclined in the chair, his head bowed. Mick stood up and approached him. Sherl quietly snoring; mouth half open and could see the smooth line of white teeth.  
— That poor man, — Mick lifted Sherlock in his arms and carried to the bedroom section, covered with a blanket.  
Sherlock has something and turned, his nose buried in the pillow. Mick looked at him and walked out of the room.  
Stopped in the kitchen, he thought, and went to the bathroom. Let the cold water and stood under it until cold, then got out, dried off, got dressed and decided to go... away.  
Took the weapon, identity, money and went to wander.  
On the street it was raining. Cold, penetrating rain. He leaky whitish vapor, swirling along the roads.  
Mick wrapped himself in a jacket, stuck my hands in the pockets of his jeans and went along the street.

He went far enough and the order got lost, as suddenly popped up the fragile little figure.  
\- Hey, what happened? — Mick seized the poor fellow, — you're all wet and shivering...  
— Save me! — softly muttered the lad, - he wants to use me for dirty purposes!  
— Who? - Mick asked  
— He, — the boy shook his head somewhere in the darkness and hurriedly hid behind Mick`s.

— Where's that kid? — from the darkness came the high-lean type in a black leather biker jacket, black jeans and high laced boots.  
— No idea, — indifferently said Mick, carefully examining the stranger.  
\- I saw that he ran HERE, - with the pressure said type.  
— What?  
\- Nothing, - the stranger bowed his head, - I think the kid can run right up to the Strait. I'd like to meet you. How about a glass of ale?  
\- I don't drink.  
— A glass of red wine? — on the face of the stranger reflected some doubt, - how about a light supper at the Savoy?  
\- I am not hungry.  
\- Hm, - the stranger came closer, - and you're so... cute. I bet in bed you're very hot.  
\- Not your problem, - grinned Mick.  
— Cute, - the stranger held out his hand and touched the back of his hand cheeks Mick`s, - my name is Arman.  
— Shit, — Mick withdrew his head, drew his six-shooter and pointed at Armand, - listen you, get out of here!  
\- When you get angry, you're so sweet, - Armand smiled.  
— Come on, dork,- Mick took the gun, turned and went back.

While Mick disappeared around the corner, Arman looked after him, then put his hand to his chest.  
— "So warm. What is it? I really fell in love with that grumpy? I never felt so good. You will be mine!"


	8. Chapter 8

Mick did not have to go far as from a narrow alley popped the thin figure.  
— Is he gone? — hurriedly she asked.  
— Went, — said Mick. The boy was the sprout of Mick`s on the chin, — a kid should not walk at night.  
\- You see, - the kid burned Mick`s fiercely brown eyes, - I, for your information, an adult!  
— I believe you, — Mick smiled, — now tell me the address, I will bring you home.  
— You don't listen what I say — the guy sighed, - I told you, I'm an adult, I am 25 years old and, in General, I'm a girl. And my name is Ness Raven.  
\- Okay, - agreed Mick, - but where you live?  
— I live at Clare Rose.  
\- Who's this?  
\- Is the star of the club "Blue Velvet".  
— Okay, if you know the way to the club, let me walk with you.  
\- Come on, - agreed Ness.

\- My poor girl! - Claire was waiting for them at the threshold of the club, - you must be scared. But I blame...  
— MA'am, - Mick looked at Claire, - she says she lives here?  
\- Yes, - charming smiled at Claire, - come down. Ness need to warm up, and you, a good Samaritan, I'll pour some wine from an old inventory of my grandfather.  
— The club is closed, — said Mick.  
— So I open it, — languidly stretched Claire, - I'm the co — owner of this club.

— It all started in the 20's, when my grandfather suddenly died, and father disappeared in an unknown direction, — babbled Claire, preparing hot punch for Ness, - my mom decided it wouldn't hurt, instead of moaning, start your own club. Then I met Anthony. Where? Sleeping. Estimated revenue, and fell asleep. - Ness, baby, I'm sorry. Oh, Armand, Sharman! You see, dear, he thought you were a pretty boy! But Arman always go for boys. You'll have to go back in the girls ' past. My dear friend, here's your wine, - she put a tall glass of wine in front of Mick`s, - here is refreshment, pushed up his plate of cheese crackers and a bowl of almonds, I am so grateful.  
— Not for that, - Mick took a SIP of wine and was detained in his mouth to enjoy the taste, - I've seen this Armand. I did not like it.  
— Yes? - Claire looked at Mick`s, - and I'm sure he likes you.  
— I wouldn't advise it, — Mick gritted teeth and eyes get.  
— All right, - Claire hoarsely laughed, - I hope you to us will come.  
— Hardly, — Mick drained his glass and left the club; he stood in the rain for a few minutes and went home on Baker street, 221b.

 

\- Honey, - Claire sat down next to Ness, who was sitting on the stairs, wrapped in a blanket, - tomorrow we'll go to the flower shop miss Dina Chubar.  
— What? - Ness wrinkled his nose.  
— And the fact that Dina needed help. And you come to the court. And in the evenings you can come and play the piano. But only as a girl.  
— Well, — calmly replied Ness and yawned, - I want to sleep.

***

 

The next day Claire and Ness went to a flower shop. Miss Dina Chubar was thin big-eyed girl with light brown hair, dressed in pale pink poplin dress with large floral pattern.  
\- My name is Dina, - she smiled Ness, — you like flowers?  
\- Yes, - Ness smiled.  
\- That's fine. So going to work.

***

 

— "You have to understand something to lure him," - thought Armand, basking in the morning in a white bed, — "fragile daffodils? No. Roses? Not suitable. Lily? Hmm. Maybe. First find out where this stranger lived, and then begin to Woo. How sweet is he?", - Arman huddled under the blanket, feeling an unusual heat rising not from the loins, and from the heart. Pleasant languor spread through his limbs.  
— "What he's uncouth, nice and aggressive," - Armand licked his dry lips; he began to imagine how gently kiss that boob dry lips, then hug, slowly unbuttoning shirt and start to caress...

***

— Did you sleep last night? - asked Sherlock, when in the morning they sat and ate in the kitchen.  
— Yeah, — muttered Mick, - did you sleep okay, thanks to your rain.  
\- But you left...  
— And then came. What do we have bodies?  
\- Yeah, - Sherlock sighed, sipped coffee from little white cups, - God knows. Skull disfigured.  
— It was crazy, - Mick took a bite of toast with jam and drank a Cup of tea, — who does that?  
\- I don't know, - sighed Sherlock, - you searched the car?  
— Searched, but not found...  
— What will you do?  
— To help you I will, - Mick looked at Sherlock, - have a gut feeling that everything is interconnected.  
— Hmm, — Sherlock smiled, - I agree. Eat and go, maybe you'll see that we didn't notice.

***

 

Alice and Tim are all these corpses didn't like. Their jobs were dangerous — corpses, skeletons, and strange documents in ragged form.  
— What do we do? — Alice asked Tim, sitting in Hyde Park.  
— I guess we don't need nobody, — defiantly replied Tim, - we will find and hunt down.  
— And if this is dangerous? - Although Alice smiled, - it would be a cool adventure.  
\- I agree, - Tim smiled again.

***

 

\- Tomorrow you can do field trials, - said a disembodied monotone voice, - you will have to wait for a machine. Carefully record all results.  
\- Fine, - Dr. Karrson rubbed his hands and turned to the others, - cook Blake, tomorrow him to perform to the public, - and disgusting giggled.


	9. Chapter 9

Two days ago.  
Search Rita tidbit was clearly a success. The entire block was caught. More precisely, an empty "case", and that's something. This whiner Chuck paid the fee as it should be, though, and had a little snarl. He's hot, head hurts... ugh! In General, there was enough money for a decent Burger, with a Coke to boot.  
And so, sipping the bubbling drink, the girl unfolded the paper that caught her today during raids. Very fresh, why throw? Strange... Well, their problem. It's time to see what's out there...

"Beware! People continue to disappear" — that was the headline on the first page. But this is not shocked the girl. One of the pictures — there were pressed tin van. Supposedly he was seen repeatedly, where subsequently disappeared some people. Rita intently stared at the photo. So is the emblem, a schematic representation of some birds (probably pigeons), aroused such a terrible, deeply buried, memories that she had as many chest ached. Once she had a brother... little brother, which took place with her, then ten-year-old brat, all the circles of hell... day after day, crying, begging her to run away from here to pick it up... the Girl with shaking hands balled up newspaper. But as soon as the first wave, with difficulty, lay down, Rita raised a rustling clump from the floor. Well she does, she's not so angry. And the newspaper is necessary because she knows what to do next. We must go where we must, without delay, to catch the first to give his testimony. Revenge, revenge is all-consuming now been telling her.

— What's the trouble, dearie? — turned to her young man of 20 something, a new brand-new police uniform, whose duty was to meet visitors at the entrance to the station.  
— I. Where is your leader? Rita spoke in a tone that seemed to communicate with peers.  
— What's the matter? - repeated a young officer of the law.  
\- "Blockhead! Well I like everything clearly stated!" - the girl barely said it out loud. But you're here with performance came, not in jail. Anyway not to get angry. In any case.  
— Indications. I — about some of the evidence, - as calmly as possible and clearly said Rita.  
\- Please clarify, miss.  
\- Soon people were missing after all, right? — answered with a question miss Scarheart, — So, I have some information. From here — said the girl on the newspaper in his hands.  
— Excuse me, miss, not all information may be accurate, you know, - said the policeman.  
— I honestly say! Listen to me!

A few hours later

\- HOLY CRAP!!! — innocent stool banged against the wall. One of the legs fell off. Rita was already in a state of berserk, that moment when it became dangerous for those who are not fortunate enough to be there. And that still craved revenge. But she was just escorted away. She got off with a stern warning.

***

 

Mira Slivenko lost track of time. Her steam dreadnought peacefully and slowly floated through the cloudy sky, heading in the Northern States. Final destination was Los Angeles. There were important technical burden that had to be delivered two days later in London.

The landing was successful. Mira has put the ship in dry dock, reported to the captain and received twenty hours of the day off, went to buy new fashion and perfumes.  
The company "Royal Dreadnoughts" to give its employees good hotels and three meals a day free meals and discounts in the largest ports of the world.

Mira dressed in white breeches, a white blouse, a fitted jacket and a black scarf, was cheerfully walking down the street, looking at shop Windows. In the inner pocket of quiet rested the money and the gold card Western Union.  
Of products was so much that was dizzying. And all wanted to buy. And Mira plunged into shopping.

***

 

— Chhe... You? - asked was an elderly servant to some person in a black coat to toe, standing at the gangway.  
\- AA... prastio, so? — asked the same. Her face — or — hiding sunglasses and a scarf tied almost to his nose.  
— Em... You're in London, right?  
— Ya-ya! London, London! — the subject is wearing sunglasses and cloak nodded vigorously.  
— Happy journey! - the old man saluted.  
Rita — and it was she barely restrained a chuckle. With such sheep is not something that to London — to Mars you can fly! Things couldn't be going better! Yet... What brought it there? The mutilated memory of the girl kept one important, in its standards, circumstance — all of which she and her dead brother lived in constant pain and fear for three years, spoke English. Since police do not wait for help, you're on your own so your hands and head. Here's what's been telling her revenge. House and own it and so, I think, are long gone.

***

 

— We have eight passengers — stunned Mira`s, captain, as soon as she came aboard, accompanied by three porters from three different stores.  
— Yes? — she wondered, — why are we?  
— I believe that they have no money, the captain took off his cap and scratched his bald head — they will be downloaded during the flight something simple. And now, miss Slivenko, be good in an hour to take his position in the operator.  
\- Yes, - smiled Mira and went to his cabin.

***

 

The dreadnought gently moved away from the Marina and majestically rose into the boundless blue sky. Along the way promised clear weather, no cyclones and rains.  
— Twenty hours, we find ourselves on the territory of the United Kingdom, - Mira looked up from the console and looked through the viewing window.  
— What caused the delay?  
— Just came a telephone message, - replied Mira, — the North Atlantic, will be held military exercises of the joint forces of the European Union.  
\- Very sensible, - approved captain, turning the steering wheel.

The massive body of the ship, ferry from all eight pipes, placed on each side of the body, slowly unfolded, going on a new course. His brilliant body and elongated sizes resembled fish swimming in the blue water of the sky. He was small for his class, his big brothers pipes was much more capacity too. But he fall.  
Basically, it was a small cargo in the weight category up to forty tons, the ability to take passengers fishing for whales, help the fire service, ambulance and police.  
The captain was taken for any of the charters; it was important that customers pay. A team of forty people plus the operator, and the repair of the ship.  
This freight was from intermediaries, but the captain knew that this order came from the military.  
The cargo was small, he didn't even weigh ten tons; the boxes were marked with terrible stickers — "do not throw", "Caution, glass", "Fragile equipment", "life-threatening". So the captain wanted as quickly as possible to get him to London and pretend that he is this cargo had never seen.


	10. Chapter 10

"Object.  
Roger Blake.  
Gender — male.  
Age — 45 years.  
Height — 1.83 m  
Weight — 90 pounds.  
The serum of force — 17 cubes intravenously.  
Serum rage — 12 cubes.  
The suggestion was successful.  
The object is released on the streets of the city at 09.00 am.  
Surveillance lead — Dr. Joanne Eger and Alex Vedre"

***

 

Mick and Sherlock sat in the car, not in this grey diesel monster that belonged to Sherlock, and in a small brisk cyber car of Mick`s.  
They are already half an hour watching the strange black diesel, which is suspiciously hiding in a nearby alley, something was waiting.

It was a good day.  
Blue sky, white clouds, children in the Park, dignified old ladies in Victorian dresses, young women in skirts-pencils and thick jackets, hurrying in the city.

Sherlock was dozing, leaning back on the seat. Today it was a purple shirt, black jacket, black breeches, tucked into high laced boots. Mick was dressed about the same, but instead of breeches — jeans, and shirt were blue in a large square.  
Mick carefully considered the environment.  
All was well, when suddenly Mick saw the full slovenly dressed man with the black puffy curly hair on your head. He was moving like he was drunk or high.  
— Sherl, - and Mick nudged a dozing colleague, - look.  
— What happened? - Sherlock fixed his sleepy eyes out the window.  
— Yes, there is a drug addict or alcoholic, - Mick pointed a finger at the puffy guy in the scruffy clothes.  
— While he is not taking anything weird, - yawned Sherlock.

The object moved to the edge of the road, crossed the road and entered the Park. Sat on a bench and stared blankly at the pavement.  
Near it was the boys; the gaggle of boys about ten years old, dressed in plain trousers, grey shirts and the same caps, ran for each other.  
Here they stopped and began to whisper. Then they separated, one party ran in one direction, and the second for them. One of the second party shouted:  
— Freeze, police!

Puffy type cringed; he first sank, then straightened up, stood up from the bench and moved to the noisy boys.

\- Listen, Sherlock, - Mick was anxious, - I'll go check it out. I don't like his behavior.  
— I'm with you, — they both got out of the car and went to the Park.

The man was armed, pulled out a tree and chased blubbered the terrified kids screaming:  
— Police! Kill!

— Hey, man! - Mick blocked the man to the road, — come on wood!  
— You... — the man braked, — who?  
\- Stop attacking children, - Mick missed the question on deaf ears, — you're scaring them.  
— The police — behind the man rose Sherlock, - come along with us.  
\- The police?! KILL!!! - the guy punched Mick in the stomach, that is already bent. From the second shot Mick flew away to the side.  
— Don't touch!!! — Sherlock yelled, rushing was crazy, but immediately received a strong blow that threw him to the nearest tree.

Mick came to himself, flattened breath, stood up and ran to help Sherlock.  
— How are you? — asked Mick ran.  
— Strong, damn it! — said Sherlock, wiping the blood pouring from his nose.  
— Can you stand? — concerned about said Mick.  
\- Yeah, - Sherlock rose to his feet; the crazy feathers on them like a tank. In his hands was no longer a tree, but ominously gleaming chrome parts a strange revolver.  
— He got so excited hearing the word "police?" - muttered Sherlock, fixing his crazy his clear gray eyes, and silently wondering how polovchee to attack him to protect him and Mick`s from getting a stray bullet. Mick, however, went forward, blocking him Sherlock.

— Police! Kill! - puffy type; before his eyes was a terrible picture, it showed. Police they appeared as huge red monsters with glowing eyes and many tentacles. One of the monsters stood in his way, blocking the second. Crazy looked around; the whole street was crowded with monsters. They were joined on this quiet street, uttering shrill cries; now that Blake was afraid of. These two called for help, now he is not strong enough to kill them all, but he can destroy at least a few. But his weapon was a few charges.  
— To kill! - yelled Blake, raised his hand and pulled the trigger. The first monster had his tentacles and fell to the pavement.  
Blake is in ecstasy pulled the trigger until, until realized that there are no more charges. Blake turned away from the defeated monster and rushed at the other, taking as weapons the iron bench.

— Mick!!! - Sherlock opened on a colleague's shirt, the blood oozing from three bullet wounds. Two bullets hit exactly in the middle of his chest, and the third under the right collarbone.  
— Mick!!! - Sherlock tried to stop the bleeding, but with horror was convinced that his colleague is dying, - no!!!

***

 

Sherlock sat in the waiting room of the hospital and dreading to hear what the doctors say. Fortunately, the ambulance came very quickly, and Melloun actually has instantly brought to the operating room. Now Sherlock was sitting in a white hospital corridor, shivered from the cold, in terror waiting for the verdict.  
\- Inspector Holmes? - asked the pretty nurse appeared in front of Sherlock.  
— Yes? - Sherlock raised her frightened eyes.  
— Telephone call.  
Sherlock went to the emergency room and picked up the phone.  
— Fast to me!!! - at the end of the tube.  
\- But...  
\- No but, - on the other end growled louder.  
— Well, sir, - meekly replied the Sherlock, hung up and looked helplessly around the room.  
— What happened? - asked the duty nurse.  
— You know, my friend got stabbed. And he's in surgery now, and calling me chief, - said Sherlock, - you would not be able to call when he's in recovery?  
\- Okay. The name of your friend?  
— Mick Melloun.  
— I will call you. — calmly replied the heavyset nurse, - you're from the police?  
\- Yes.

***

 

Sherlock stood in the office of Commissioner Watson and, his head bowed, listening to the furious cries of his terrible boss. Who would have thought that this nondescript little man conquered the entire Scotland Yard that was afraid of everything — from constables to inspectors.  
\- You fool!!! — oral Commissioner John Watson on Sherlock shrunken, — damn you!!! If the detective dies, we find ourselves in the ass!!! Do you realize that we need to dote over him!!! Country important Alliance with the Northern States, where Northern States, there is the Union of the Americas!!! How are we going to look if a police officer from the Northern States will die with us?!  
— But... — tried to get the word Sherlock.  
— Shut up!!! I don't care for your pathetic excuses!!! This is the last warning, when the American wakes up, you need to put life, but to do so he survived!!! If you fail, I will give your business the senior inspector Lestrade!!! Okay?  
— Yes, sir, - killed said Sherlock, - now I can go back to the hospital?  
\- Go. And no more mistakes.  
\- Yes, sir! - Sherlock turned and slipped out the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock appeared at the hospital and the first thing I rushed to the doctor's office:  
— Doctor, where can I learn about detective Mick Melloun actually has?  
— Second, - the doctor flipped through the magazine well. - He's in intensive care.  
— My God! — Sherlock trembled the knees.  
— Calm down, - doctor sympathetic looked at him, - the operation was successful. Your friend lost a lot of blood.  
— Can I see him? — timidly asked Sherlock.  
— Of course. Third floor, room 301.  
— Thanks, — thanked Sherlock and padded feet flooded to the third floor.

The chamber was huge, wide and white. Mick was lying on a high bed surrounded by popiskivanie instruments and baskets of snowy lilies.  
— Mick? - Sherlock held out his hand and touched the fingers of the Melloun actually has.  
The fingers of the American flinch.  
\- You're alive! - answered Sherlock, trying not to look at the numerous bandages.  
His fingers trembled again and attempted to arise like holding a pencil.  
— Now, - Sherlock slipped Mick`s a thick pencil and a piece of paper.  
Mick wryly, without opening his eyes, he scrawled on the paper "machine".  
— Not yet, — replied Sherlock.  
Mick again scrawled the word "crazy".  
— It had to be destroyed, — spreads his hands apologetically Sherlock, - now he's resting peacefully in the morgue.  
This information came Mick`s not to his liking, and he again wrote — "connected".  
— Are you sure? - Sherlock dropped into a chair, - I will remain with you, — he said Mick, - my boss ordered him to keep an eye on you. I want to see you Wake up. While lie down, and I'll agree with the doctors, - Sherlock was gone.

***

 

In the meantime, Alice and Tim, installing the map the most likely place of getting the bodies in the sewers, went there.  
It was an old mine, which for unknown reasons was abandoned in the early 1900s.  
— Look, Alice, - said Tim, raising his lantern type "bat" — there seems to be someone who lives.  
— And that someone settled recently, - said Alice, looking at the flickering light of the lamp uneven walls, sealed fresh pictures from Newspapers, a tin depicting a van, — look, and there's a deckchair. And a tallow candle, the lantern...  
\- Hey! — cut them both on the ears a sharp cry, - his Legs removed, the goat! Not yours! Yes, I tell you! And che you all doing here? Well, fuck both of here!  
\- Hey! — was interrupted by the screech Tim, - you're in the territory of our work! So you better shut up and show up, and then we'll call the police!  
— Hey, uncle, I are in fact on the wall smear can! — in the light of the lantern they brought a teenage girl 15 years old with brown shoulder length hair, very pale and thin, have not washed the shirt and jeans. — I live here, okay? My territory! Loudmouth any more vessels to go! You haven't called! — she hissed.  
\- Uh, don't push it, - Alice has napruzhinilos is the place of our work, - a stranger has no place here!  
— Calm down, girls, - Tim stopped the incipient quarrel, - my name is Timothy Batch, and this is Alice Naijwood, - he nodded at her friend, - who are you?  
— The horse's coat, - was the answer.  
— No need to be rude, - he tried to reason with the stranger, Tim, - come with us. We'll feed, wash, and then we'll talk. We're not the enemy.  
The girls eyes suddenly glistened with tears.  
— Everything you say!!! And THEY're freaks too, I so languages comb!!!  
— We work here, - Tim reached into his bag and took out a package, and slowly unwrapped; there were lush fresh piece of cherry pie, - here take it, - and handed it to the stranger.  
— Not on the attack, - the girl pushed away his hand, handing her a treat, but now her look was not so daring. Tim noticed a wet trail on the pale cheek girls, as well as the fact that the lower lip she was shaking.  
\- Eat, - coaxed her Alice, - come with us. You will sleep, eat, wash up, and then tell me what happened...  
— Ohh... Tell me — honestly! — you are scientists? Well, whether or not technicians at least?  
— No, no, — hastened to assure her Tim, — we work here. I am the operator of a pumping station, and she's the foreman of the treatment group.  
— Just me, - the girl clenched his fists, - hate... Hate scientists!  
— Now, we don't like them anyway, — spat Alice, - dumped us into the sewer corpses...  
— So come with us, - said Tim, handing the stranger a cake, — eating went. It's frightening sometimes... Rats, corpses, they say, the ghosts roam. Alice you will be allowed to spend the night, and then we'll find you suitable accommodation, help to find a normal job...  
— Yes, my friend, - said Alice, - looking for a helper in a flower shop, but she now needs an assistant in the greenhouses.  
\- I hate them because they turned me into... a monster, — girl turned away and wiped his eyes with the sleeve, - I have had a brother... and they took it and cut his head off, like the filthy rat! So I'm behaving and talking. Because... because I don't want to lose anyone else, - her voice broke with tears, - You... forgive me!  
— Of course, we understand, - Alice quietly went over and hugged the weeping girl, patted her on the head, — all will be well.  
— And it's... you with me... after all... what can I say?!  
— Oh, come on, - Alice pressed the girl tighter, — at everyone the cockroaches in a head. Now eat the cake, or then, when you wash up?  
— Show me where to wash your hands?  
— Come with us, - Alice pulled her hand, - Oh, I'm sorry. You probably want something to pick up here?  
— Here for three miles some dungeons, - confirmed Tim, - to wash hands can be at the top.  
A girl collected a couple of Newspapers — where the photos adorned the ominous metal of the van.

New friends brought Rita in the spacious, albeit tiny, apartment.  
— I live here, — said Alice, — here you will spend the night, - she showed Rita soft large wooden bed, covered with a blanket in the large flower pattern, — and here you can wash, - opened the door and eyes Rita had a room in which stood a large white claw-foot tub, but which hung a snake flexible shower and the faucet with two valves.  
— Here's a towel, - Alice handed the stunned Rita stack, - and a lab coat, I'll hang here, - and here are your Slippers, - pair of fuzzy Slippers in the shape of ginger kittens, stared at Rita merry eyes, - here soap, your washcloth, here, scrub, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste, shower gel. Until you take off your clothes, — babbled Alice, - and I you water.

An hour later, Rita sat in the scented hot bath and soak. All around was quiet, calm, warm and peaceful.  
— "This must be heaven," - thought Rita, - "the Paradise, after the seven circles of hell. Roger would be happy — he wanted to escape from there," - good mood vanished, and the tears flowed again on her cheeks.— "I'll find them. And they will regret that have chosen me as their lab rats. No! They'll regret that you ever were born!" — the girl in a rage she slammed her hand down on the water with a huge splash.


	12. Chapter 12

Mick opened his eyes somewhere in the middle of the night; about his bed, covered with his own coat, sleeping Sherlock. He reclined in the wide chair. But no he woke Mick`s.  
Mick looked down. From the wall separated a tall, muscular figure dressed in black.  
— I am very sorry to see you here, - a faint voice she said, - but are you happy?  
— You, — Mick whispered, — the bastard that molested me?  
— I confess, was a sinner, - a man walked over to the bed with Mick`s.  
Mick remembered his name, but chose not to speak.  
I was so afraid you wouldn't Wake up, - Arman heard the tears; he swallowed, - I didn't know what kind you like the flowers...  
— Chamomile, - said Mick, — wild bells, wild geranium...  
— Well, — Arman sat on the edge of the bed, finding himself suddenly close to Mick`s, - you're so pale... Yeah, the doctors said to me, - he added quickly, - that you lost a lot of blood. Poor, - Arman gently reached out and patted Mick`s on the cheek, then his hand came down along the neck to the collarbone, and then chest.  
— I'm not like that, - Mick threw a furious gaze on the serene Arman, who clearly was in Nirvana, enjoying unexpected happiness.  
\- Lordy, - murmured Armand, — I like you so much, - dropped her head and... his wet tongue drew a path on the collarbone.  
— Get out, - growled Mick, raising his voice.

Sherlock fidgeted in his chair.  
— Sorry, sorry, - Arman, holding the gleaming tears instantly disappeared behind the door.  
— Mick? - Sherlock opened his eyes, - thank God you're awake!  
\- Yeah, - Mick took a deep breath and barely held back a groan.  
— You be careful, — fuss Sherlock, — the boss'd skin me alive if you die.  
\- That's another one, - grumbled Mick, - can I ask you to give me something to drink.  
— Of course.

After everyone had drunk, Mick and Sherlock fell asleep again.

***

 

Arman was sitting in the "Blue Velvet" and cried. Big tears rolled down his cheeks, falling in a glass of red wine.  
— What happened? — approached Claire in a scarlet dress rustling, — boyfriend dumped?  
— You don't know — sob Arman, - I love him, and he does not see...  
\- Means not from the side climb, - grinned Claire, — eat, drink and relax. Try to understand this man. The night is long, the moon rose, the dream will bring you...

At the piano the village air a fragile young lady in a black dress; Claire leaned on the lid and hoarsely began to sing:

Doctor No!  
Doctor Who!  
Doctor Yes!

I have a trouble;  
For me this light is so not nice,  
I'm in of feelings drowning, no strength there quagmir!

Doctor Yes!  
Doctor Who!  
Doctor No!

I don't know what is your answer?  
In a web of lies I got confused...  
Love mine unrequited!

Doctor No!  
Doctor Yes!  
Doctor Who!

I'm not going to replace anyone;  
I know that without me the trouble you awaits!  
The doctor No, doctor Who, doctor Yes!

— Ask me to dance, fool, - she whispered Arman`s, - calm down. Look, we came to Voldemar. It gets you through the night.  
\- But my heart, - cried Armand, - I will satisfy your lust, but my heart... it will break every time I see in his hands the wrong person.  
— Live while you live, love while you can — philosophically spoken Claire; put the lid of the piano and lay on top; red dresses the edge erotically slid off slender legs, - in play, Ness...

The spy who loved me,  
I left soon;  
I'm on Board  
I look at this sea.

Waves, stars, clouds...  
Today I am far...  
I'm not with you!  
Dear!

Today I am in love  
Drink champagne to the bottom;  
My dear, you're so good!  
Just better not to find!

Waves, stars, clouds...  
Today I am far...  
I'm not with you!  
Dear!

I want you to understand  
I want to hug you!  
Kiss me you...  
And shatter my dreams!

Waves, stars, clouds...  
Today I am far...  
I'm not with you!  
Dear!

— I want to sing with you! - Arman wiped his tears and walked over to Claire, - will allow?  
\- Of course, - Claire slid off the piano lid and gently put his arm around Arman's neck, - my Arman, Sharman!

Ness has played quite a fast tune; Claire snuggled up to Arman`s and languidly sang:

My dear good friend!  
You love... But your fear  
Scares me I want you  
And at night under the moon, and in the light of day!

 

Arman, he was very warm voice answered:

I can't love you!  
Please temper your enthusiasm!  
My heart just hurts about the other;  
In the heart love pain of sitting!

 

Claire:

Stupid lovesick fool!  
The path of love is incredibly cruel!  
You stop torturing yourself  
And give yourself to me in the light of day!

 

Arman:

I can't give myself to you,  
Not in daylight, not in the light of the moon,  
And I'll be here and nowhere,  
And you let to do warm dreams!


	13. Chapter 13

— Look, you lost one! — yelled the burly gray-haired man in a black suit, — how long will this last?! We have given you and the lab, and the money and opportunity, and you are all wrong!!!  
\- Nothing wrong. - Dr. Werde trimmed the thin bow of his glasses, - the observation of the object shown excellent results. First, we now know that super power coupled with an inhuman stupidity is not fit for action in urban environments. Second, OUR soldiers can work in the city, it is necessary to modify the technique of their training. We need to stop typing slow-witted thugs and empty-headed majors, but should pay attention to people who THINK that the Bucket leaned back in his revolving chair, smoothed out his white robe and stared at the standing representative of the sponsoring organization, You supply us with rabbits, and now you need to hunt game smarter.  
— Do not you teach us, - hissed sponsor, - we imagine, we receive orders from above.  
\- I understand, - Alexander Werde, - rolled his eyes, but bear with me. I am a young professional. I'm 39 years old. I want to leave my mark in history, to create something. And I push you on the right path. Yes, you got me, I'm a valid member of the Pechalka, master in applied mechanics and corresponding member of the Institute of Applied Occultism, part of the Thule Society. Believe me, if you want a GOOD army, then help us do it.  
— Well, - the man in black looked thoughtful.

In the words of this upstart was the point. Because the army is divided into two parts — offensive power and thinking. Bulky athletes-age, confidently sweeping away everything in its path, it took a lot, but who can stop such a force, when some objects do not break. And the taking of hostages? The doctor had a point.  
— Well, — said the representative of the sponsor, - we will start working on your proposal, but on object of D there are too many "rabbits."  
\- Serum strength completely paid off, within a week we synthesize several tens of liters and then you will be able to produce vaccinations — Dr. Werde spun on the chair, — your task is an hourly training. And Dr. Eger will rewrite the program of suggestion. Too often this word is mentioned in conversation...  
\- Fine, - type in black left the office, closing the door behind them.

\- "Great," - thought Alex, - "I'll be able to leave a trace in history. To help the country and finish their own research on the development of..." - he rose from his chair and approached the huge window occupying the whole wall. Looked down.  
At the bottom of London lived their lives. White puffs of steam gently side by side with black clouds of diesel engines. Somewhere in a hurry people seem about their business.  
\- "They don't even know that soon all this stupid idyll will end and there will be a new world order. In the sea will leave diesel vehicles, the heavens rise air destroyers and "flying platform"... And the world will tremble under the iron tread of United Kingdom. Hmm. To the Union of the Americas we can get, but not the fact that we will be able to win. The celestial Empire and the Empire of Nippon we do not handle. Africa.... And why the hell is it us? There civilization there. The Australian Union is, it makes no sense to even be sent. But Europe and Russia — an excellent springboard for our invincible army!" — Alex smiled.

Today he planned to invite Joanne to the theater for a new show. Covent garden Opera gave Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, "Superman undefeated", starring Lionna and John Barrowman.  
But until seven in the evening was a lot of time and so Alex went to sleep.

***

Theatre full, faces Shine....  
Arman was sitting in bed and bored staring at the audience. He was bad, his love he had not noticed.... And he didn't know how to make this angry American stopped yelling at him. Everything seems as it should be. Changed lily in flowers of the forest, paid the hospital for the best service, even passed the blood....  
Terribly jealous of this lanky detective who climbs out of the chamber wounded.  
The lights went out, the curtain rose. Arman tried to concentrate on the story, but my thoughts were far away, and too vivid imagination was painting all sorts of very obscene pictures.

On stage John Barrowman as Superman sang a duet with Linney in the role of Lois.

Superman

 

Unfortunately, krypton's sake!  
My homeland!  
Gone and vanished in the darkness.  
Found calling on the Ground.  
Now I'm saving the world here.  
Alas, nothing to return!

 

Lois

 

You're full of mysteries!  
Who are you?  
You violated my peace!  
All thoughts only about you!  
And about you!

 

At another time Arman would have paid attention to this strong brunette in sexy tight suit that emphasized moulded muscles, but not today. Today Arman drooled over those pictures, which he treated with imagination.

Lex Luthor

 

And remember, Superman!  
That hour will come, and you captured  
My game play!!  
You'll destroy krypton.  
And force will not help!

 

Superman

 

You're a scoundrel!  
A politician and a thug!  
And I'm terribly angry!  
I arrest you, you know.  
You're Lois lane to me give it to me!

 

Arman in his imagination built another story. Curly-haired detective was Luther American — Lois, and he is Superman. And he, like a true gentleman, was going to escape from the clutches of the villain of his innocent sheep.

Not had time to give the curtain at the end of the second act, as the box looked usherette.  
— Mr. Evans! The phone's for you!  
Second, Evans took a deep breath and followed the usherette.

The call was from the Ministry.  
— Yes?

— New people? How much?

— The police?

— I understand that. Just thinking, but not scientists.

— I understand. No, I got it. Tip the ladies as usual. Goodbye. - Evans hung up and thought.  
The Ministry needed people, but of a different kind. In the brain, Arman was having a seductive idea to slip the Ministry of curly and the American, but he indignantly rejected it. Curly-haired detective could mean something in the life of American, and Arman, as was not jealous, still wanted not to interfere with the natural process. Therefore, it was necessary to immediately take all possible tentacles of the Ministry from these two and start to guard.  
Arman relaxed, took a deep breath and went to watch the Opera.


End file.
